


As the Storm Breaks

by twosuns



Series: How He Found Out series [3]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: (no hate here), Bellarke, Canon up to 5x13, Eligius fic, F/M, How He Found Out series, One-Shot, Season/Series 06 Speculation, a little drama, and a little heartache, bellamy + clarke, classic Bellarke, mention of miller/madi/echo, season 6 spec, we can't lose clarke, you keep her centered
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-07
Updated: 2019-05-07
Packaged: 2020-02-27 22:32:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18748417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twosuns/pseuds/twosuns
Summary: He arrives out of breath: clearly having run from the guards’ post, but doesn’t miss a beat once he lays eyes on Clarke: “We’ve got a problem. It’s Bellamy.”Canon up to 5x13: a Season 6 one shot set months after settling in their new planet. Bellamy is missing in a storm and Clarke isn't prepared to lose him again.





	As the Storm Breaks

 

“Clake! Where’s Clarke?!”

 

She’s in medical tending to a nasty wound, but whirls around when she hears the urgency in Miller’s voice. He arrives out of breath: clearly having run from the guards’ post, but doesn’t miss a beat once he lays eyes on her:

“We’ve got a problem. It’s Bellamy.”

 

Miller could swear a blink of panic washes over her features, but it's gone in an instant. He continues:

 

“He’s not here.”

 

Miller’s words hit her like a force. Clarke is already overwhelmed. She was overwhelmed this morning: arguing with her daughter _again_. She was overwhelmed after that: when a fight broke out in medical (leaving her triage in a state of disarray and a dozen grounders to tend to). She was at her threshold for bad news even _before_ the storm hit. The last thing she needs is Bellamy running off in a crisis.

 

Annoyed now, Clarke went back to tending her patient and clapped back.

“Miller if he’s not here, where the hell did he go? Where did he run off to in the middle of getting four _hundred_ people into shelter?”

 

The first storm on the new planet had come unexpectedly. They lost 21 of their people that day, most of which were members of the guard. Dozens of others, like Echo and Murphy, had been wounded by debris or toxic rain and were still recuperating.

 

Echo had been hobbling behind Clarke to assist as best she could: having broken her leg getting the last of their people into safety. She had been quiet most of the morning: focused on the work at hand... but hearing Bellamy’s name she was suddenly at Clarke’s side.

 

Miller hesitates now: Clarke clearly at the end of her rope, Echo giving him a look that reminds him she used to be an assassin.

 

“... He was going to the shoreline. I caught him on his way out this morning: his plan was to be out there all day. He had to find something for Madi… I don’t know... but he was diving. And he’s not back yet.”

 

“And you let him go _alone_?” This came from Echo, who despite her injury was now stalking towards Miller more threateningly than she meant to be.

 

Miller runs his hands over his face, “He said it was a one-day trip. We have _half_ of our people still out from the last storm, he didn’t want to take anyone else if we didn’t need to-”

 

Before he can finish, Clarke is across the room. She tries the radio on the desk: desperately calling his name and waiting for a response- but she knows it’s no use. Just like the last storm: the signal will be jammed until the cell has completely passed.

 

Frantically she looks to the monitors behind her and tracks the storm’s path with her fingers, before rustling through the pile of topographical maps. It only takes her a beat before she looks up at Echo and Miller, a solemn tone to her voice:

“That shoreline is west of the mountains. The way the storm is tracing…” her eyes met Echo’s as the realization hits her: “He won’t see it coming. He’ll be lucky to get out of the water before it hits.”

 

For a second, it’s like time stands still. There is a heavy silence between Echo and Clarke as an understanding passes between them. Clarke nods, and starts towards their supplies.

 

“Jackson! Are the packs still full from Eligius?” she yells to him across the room.

 

Jackson looks up from the wound he was dressing with a sideways look, oblivious to their conversation. “Yeah, we packed for over a month and we made it in a couple weeks. Med supplies, rations, you name it-- hasn’t been touched since we got here”

 

“Good,” Clarke picks up the map from the nearby table and starts to pack it along with some essentials, “Miller: you need to make sure these people get inside. 387 bodies in the door before it closes, and nobody gets out before the radios are back on. I don’t care if it takes hours or days: you stay inside until you’re sure it’s safe. Got it?”  

 

“Yes ma’am” Miller yells back, already running through the door and back to the evacuations.

 

“Clarke, wait!”

 

Will: a local guard (who Clarke happened to have been casually seeing over the past few weeks) appears from off-side of the doorway, Clarke obviously having missed him coming in earlier.

 

“You can’t _seriously_ be considering going after him? You’ll never make it _back_ in time.”

 

“No but I can get him rations, medic supplies... he’s not prepared if this thing goes on for days, again **_.”_ **

 

Seeing his expression grow more of disbelief, Clarke shakes her head and crosses the room again with resolve.

“I’m sorry but we don’t have time to argue this right now. I need to get moving.”

 

He comes up behind her, right in her personal space, as she reaches for her jacket.

“It takes up to _two hours_ to hike to that shoreline and the storm will be here in barely half time!”

 

“Then I guess I’m making it in one.” She brushes him off, crossing the room one more time to get her pack.

 

“Please, Clarke, you’re making a big mistake.” when she doesn’t respond, he steps forward, nearly shouting now, “I can’t let you DO this Clarke!”

 

His grip on her arm- as he pulls her away from her pack- that’s what does it. Something snaps in Clarke and she whirls around: before she can think, before she can do anything but react… she tears her arm away and thunders back:

“WE CAN’T LOSE BELLAMY!”.

 

The room is suddenly still, silent. The desperation in Clarke’s voice startled everyone, including herself. Somewhere in a corner, Kane looks up from helping Abby and is reminded of a young man who once said the same thing, with the same conviction, in another life.

 

Clarke takes a deep breath, centering herself,  and begins again, softer: “I can’t leave him out there to die, Will. We’ve all given up _so_ much to get here… I _need_ him to be okay.”

 

Something darts across his features: an expression of surrender mixed with something else… something hurt. But realizing that she wasn’t going to take no for an answer, he steps aside silently.

 

Clarke swings her pack over her shoulder and turns to Echo, giving her a nod. Echo looks at her gratefully, unconsciously toying with the leg cast that’s keeping her here.

 

“Please look out for Madi?” Clarke asks, “She’s with Raven in communications still. Explain what’s happening?”

 

Echo nodded, a familiar sense of comradery between them, “She’ll be safe, I’ll make sure of it.”

 

Clarke give her one last weak smile and nods, before heading to the door. She hears Echo calling behind her: “Bring him home.”

 

The two shared a knowing glance before Clarke heads out the door and into the impending storm.

 

She steps outside and with one last deep breath: Clarke takes a second to stare up at the foreboding clouds above her.

 

“I’ll make it in one”. she says to herself.

 

And she’s gone.

 

_-_

 

Bellamy had gone to the shoreline, just as Miller said. It was a peaceful spot that they had stumbled on not far from where they settled, the only way in or out (save for the water) through the mountains that surrounded it.

 

He and Madi came here often to talk, search for supplies together… it had become a routine of theirs as they adjusted to life on the new world. Last week they had stumbled upon some kind of sea plant washed ashore that she was _sure_ she could use to make paints for Clarke: if only they could find where it was growing. When he woke up to the sunny, uneventful day ahead of him: Bellamy had decided it was good a day as any to go looking.  
  
After a long morning of searching: had found a few pockets of plants, but the trouble was how deep down they were. It took all of his breath to swim low and pick a few, before he was forced to resurface for air.

 

It was late and he was growing frustrated, but determined to get enough supplies for Madi. So much had seemed off in his relationship with Clarke lately, and this was something he could _do_ for her and her daughter. Letting tunnel-vision take over, he started a steady but quick pace of diving into the still waters, reaching for a handful before a quick breath, and diving again.

 

He was so focused that he didn’t notice when the fish were no longer in sight.

 

He didn’t notice when the sky got darker, and the wind picked up ever so slightly.

 

It wasn’t until he tried to resurface and a wave pushed him back under… that’s when Bellamy realized something was about to go very wrong.

 

Finally managing to fight his way back to the surface, Bellamy took greedy gulps of air and looked to the sky. The sunny skies had almost completely clouded over with dark, foreboding storm cells. The wind was getting stronger by the second… it was only a matter of time before the rain set in.

 

Swimming as hard as he could, Bellamy started back towards the shore. As soon as he was shallow enough, he started running through the waves. The rain started falling on him, irritating his skin wherever it came into contact, and the waves became even stronger as the wind whipped into his face. He was almost to the shore when an under-toe current pulled him below water and back violently into deeper water. As his body is thrown, Bellamy’s knee smashes against a boulder: on impulse he cries out, but underwater his chest instead fills with water.  

 

By luck he’s able to fight to the surface for a few precious moments: enough to spurt out a mouthful of water and take in half a breath. He’s back under again, and his leg twists under him as he tries to stand. He makes it up for another few gulps of air, before he’s pulled under stronger than before.

 

 _This is it,_ he starts to realize, _I’m not going to be able to get back to shore._

 

No brave death: going out protecting his people. No deathbed confessions and heartbroken goodbyes. Bellamy Blake was going to die alone, diving for flowers. This was how it was going to end.

 

As he resurfaces one last time, he can feel his arms growing weary. He’s getting light-headed now, the sound of the waves drowning out his senses as he fights one last time against the current-

 

Then he’s standing up. He’s standing up, coughing and breathing, and by some miracle he can make out the shore in the foggy distance. The toxic rain against his skin sparks his other senses back to life-- he can suddenly hear a voice yelling… a voice beside him.

 

His head turns and he realises he’s leaning against Clarke. Her arms are holding him up and she’s yelling-- her skin red from the rain, her cheeks cut from whatever the wind has been throwing around.

  
“BELLAMY- we have to go NOW! I need you to help me run! Can you run?!”

 

The urgency in her voice brings him back to himself: Clarke needs his help. He nods and despite the searing pain, begins walking with her against the waves. With her to support his injured leg, the two of them quickly make their way back to the beach. He vaguely registers her shift as she reaches for a pack on the shore and starts them back towards the caves.

 

Recalling all she can from their brief tour months ago, Clarke leads them through one- two- three- dimly lit mining tunnels before they finally reach a cavern. Mostly the space is filled with equipment and tools, but it will offer respite from the harsh storm.

 

Neither having said a word still: Clarke eases Bellamy down against the cave wall and promptly collapses beside him. Much like they did against a tree all those years ago: the two of them simply catch their breath and allow themselves to process to the fact that they are alive.

 

Some time later, Clarke is the first to move. Without speaking she goes to unpacking a lantern, the radio (still hopelessly useless, as expected) and her medical supplies. Carefully she approaches Bellamy and hovers over his leg, silently asking permission. He nods and she rolls up his pant leg, gently prodding his twisted and swollen knee. He cringes, but tries not to move as she goes about applying something to help the swelling and wound. Meticulously she finishes with his knee and goes about examining the rest of him-- ensuring his wounds aren’t too deep and removing any debris as she finds it.

 

When she gets to his cheek and the small cut there, he reaches up and places his hand over hers to still her movements. She looks at him questioningly, her eyes meeting his really for the first time again.

 

He holds her gaze for a minute before he starts, his voice coming out rough and broken from the water.

“How… how did you find me?”

 

Clarke rolls her eyes and goes back to tending his cheek, as if it should be obvious. “Miller found me as soon as the evacuation order started. He knew there’s no way you’d make it back in time-”

 

“So he just let you go _alone_?” Bellamy cuts her off, looking outraged. Clarke suddenly remembers the look of concern on poor Miller’s face when Echo asked him the same thing.

 

“Miller didn’t _let me_ do anything. I told him to focus on the evac, we didn’t have the bodies to spare coming out here-”

 

She stops, realizing how harsh that must have come across. Her expression softens before she continues,

 

“We didn’t have time for a debate: I told them I was going after you and that was it. Echo would have come, but her leg obviously…”

 

Clarke adds the last bit and trails off, unsure of how to continue now that she’s said it. As far as she could put together: the two of them seemed to have taken a step back some weeks ago to just being friends. But whatever transpired between Echo and Bellamy, they clearly were still fiercely protective of each other. She didn’t know how serious… or permanent… their romantic separation had gone. Suddenly she felt stupid for letting the conversation take this turn.

 

“I’m sorry, I don’t meant to bring it up…. I know it must be hard…” Clarke trails off without looking at him, busying herself cleaning the wound.

 

Bellamy shrugs, not bothered by the change in topic. “It’s okay, things are good between us. She’s seeing someone now even- erm… _quietly_ seeing someone, maybe I shouldn’t have said that actually-”

 

Bellamy has the decency to give her a sheepish smile at the slip, “She’s good though, and I’m good. It was the right decision for both of us.”

 

Then he adds smiling, after a beat: “...but I’m sure that didn’t help Miller’s case when he told her.”

 

“No.” Clarke laughs with him now, remembering Echo’s stalking towards him, “No, it didn’t.”

 

_-_

 

The next few hours pass uneventfully: the raging storm echoes through the tunnels and Clarke and Bellamy mostly sit in silence, making small talk between patching each other up and sipping cantenes.

 

He’s finishing his explanation of his day trip: telling the story about Madi and the paint. She’s checking the bandage on his upper arm… when Bellamy suddenly gives her a peculiar kind of look, remembering something.

“Clarke.” he starts, the same way he always does, “All this time since we woke up, working together every day… why didn’t you ever tell me about your radio calls?”

 

He was expecting her to laugh off his question, make some joke about the world ending and time being at a premium. He’s surprised when instead, Clarke freezes. And his confusion only grows when she chooses not to bring her eyes to meet his.

 

Instead, she purses her lips and responds carefully, quietly:

“What did Madi tell you?”

 

Despite her seriousness, he chuckled out loud, thinking back to the Commander’s face when she told him. The no-bullshit way she put him in his place about his choices in name of protecting Octavia: he couldn’t appreciate it at the time, but there is so much of Clarke in her daughter. For two people without a blood relation: they are more alike than she knows.  
  
His thoughts finally turned back to the matter at hand, and he was surprised to see Clarke still hadn’t moved. Perched in the same position over his arm, wearing an anxious expression.

 

“She didn’t say much,” Bellamy finally said, reaching out with his free hand to try and reassure her, though not understanding why she was acting suddenly so serious. “She told me that I wasn’t seeing how much you cared about me. She said that you tried to call me on the ring with that piece-of-crap radio.”

 

He smiled, trying to lighten the mood. She half-returned his laugh, but there was a sarcastic edge to it as she went about finishing her work.

 

“...and she said that you wouldn't want her to tell me any of this. Don't be too hard on her Clarke, she was only trying to make peace.”

 

“I’m sure that she was.” Clarke bit out: still not meeting his eyes and slamming her tools into the makeshift tray beside her.

 

He looked at her quizzically, why was she getting so upset by something that apparently wasn’t worth talking about?

 

“But the more I think about it,”

 

Seeing her fuming, Bellamy was getting defensive, angry himself even… as he realizes that there's more to this than Madi let on.

 

“I can't understand why you never told me about it. Why would you _care_ if Madi said anything? After everything we've been through together, you think that _this_ is worth keeping from me?”

 

He reaches for her, trying to urge her to look at him: but instead she whirls around and starts across the room to reorganize their things.

 

“I didn't say anything because it's not important, Bellamy-”

 

“But it was important enough to say to me every day for _six years_!?” Ignoring the pain that it brought: he was standing up now, his voice louder and more accusing than he meant it to be.

 

At this, she finally turns and looks him in the eye: shock evident in her face. So Madi told him _that_ , too. Her eyes start to gloss so slightly with tears, she's clearly struggling to keep her emotions in check.

 

“Look Clarke, I get it. Six years is a long time. I left you behind and alone in a nuclear meltdown… of course you'd have something to say to me. Whatever it is that you’re not saying to me: I can take it.”

 

Clarke shakes her head furiously and turns away from him, “It doesn't matter anymore.”

 

“That's what I told myself- that's what I assumed when we woke up… I thought that we were in a place that you would _talk_ to me if you had something you needed to say.” he gestures with his arms in annoyance, “But here we are. The closer we get to where we were before: to being a family again... you pull away. You hesitate and you take three steps in the other direction and I can’t figure out what it is you’re _still_ holding back. Until this.”

 

He's made his way to standing behind her now, pleading with her to turn around.

 

“Clarke please. I need us to get past this... Hit me, yell at me- whatever you need to do to come BACK to me… please.”

 

She turns around, tears overwhelming both of them now.

“Bellamy you haven't done anything wrong. You have to just leave it-”

 

“So what _is it then_?” he steps forward and cups her face in his hand, his eyes begging with her to to open up. “Make me understand.”

 

“You did exactly what I told you to Bellamy: you do _not_ have anything to feel guilty about.”

 

She shook her head, trying to steady her voice, “You survived and you moved on and you were happy…. that's all I ever wanted for you.”

 

“So what's the problem?” he puts both his arms on hers, bringing them close so there's no place to to look away.

 

“Please…” he pleads, his voice breaking.

 

Suddenly Clarke looks vulnerable: like the heartbroken girl he held in the lab before Praimfaya. She holds his eyes and finally relents, the words coming out with a flood of emotions in her expression that he wasn’t prepared for.

 

“The problem is that I didn’t, Bellamy. I _didn't_ move on. Instead I called to _you_ _every_ day… The problem is that you moved on while I was waiting six years for _you_.”

 

Bellamy freezes, taken aback by what he thinks she’s trying to tell him. He eyes her cautiously, disbelievingly... searching her face for answers. The question is asked before he can register he’s said anything,

“Clarke, what are you trying to say?”  
  
“I’m saying….” she swallows the lump in her throat and finally meets his eyes with a resolve. He deserves to hear this. He deserves to hear her say it finally. “I’m saying that you moved on with Echo… while I was waiting to tell you that I love you, Bellamy.”

 

It’s Bellamy’s turn to be silent, as the world seems to slow again.

 

When he doesn’t respond, dumbfounded, Clarke keeps talking.

 

“Look you don’t have to say anything,” she takes a step back away from him and breaks eye contact, looking anywhere but his face. “I get it, I misread things and it’s weird and that’s exactly why I wasn’t going to say anything. Why I asked Madi not to say anything… I didn’t want you to feel obligated or-”

 

Hands pulling her towards him cuts her off. She looks up and his eyes are darkened, determined, as he doesn’t hesitate: he reaches down and pulls her close… after years of stolen glances and uncertainty… his lips are finally on hers.

 

It’s gentle at first: more so than either of them is expecting.

 

They start slow, as if neither of them can really believe this is happening. As they start to build in pace: Clarke reaches up and tangles her hands in his curls, he brings her closer and she crashes into his arms with more force than they can control. Quickly they both lose themselves in the kiss: reaching and exploring with abandon as they try desperately to quench a thirst they’ve been living with all these years.

 

It’s not until they find themselves backed against a wall- Clarke with her legs wrapped around his waist and Bellamy having thrown off his jacket- that they finally break apart. His cursing as his arm wound reopens breaks the spell and they both have to take a moment to catch their breaths again, leaning against the wall silently: not moving from each other’s arms.

 

They look into the other’s eyes and there are no words. Nothing they could possibly say to properly sum up what this moment was going to change for them. What it meant to them.

 

Instead of trying, Bellamy leans down and kisses her again: chaste and lighter this time, letting a smile break onto his face as he pulls away and finally says out loud: “I love you too.”

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! <3


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